


Always yours

by ChocoNut



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Diverges in 6x8, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Red Tent of Sex, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: When Brienne walks out of his tent, Jaime thinks it is goodbye. Little does he know what that night has in store for him.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 14
Kudos: 176





	Always yours

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another extended Riverrun meeting.  
> Thank you for reading and enjoy!

A loud clap of thunder echoing the storm brewing in his mind, Jaime stood there gaping at her, taking in every bit of her muddy clothes and her state of dishevel. So much, he wanted to tell her, to welcome her back into his humble tent and his life, but all he could do was cuff her sapphire eyes to his, the sight of the woman, dripping wet from head to toe, the short golden strands of hair clinging to her forehead, the suddenness of her appearance and the inappropriate hour at which she had chosen to pay him a visit, too much for him to fathom all at once.

 _Come in. Stay with me,_ he wanted to say, but what left his mouth, instead, was a gruff, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Brienne blinked hard. Numerous times. Like she did whenever she was nervous or there was more on her mind than her words could convey. Then, she approached the table, unbuckling her belt as she walked.

And he instantly knew what was happening.

“You came all the way for this?” he complained, when she pulled out the sword, crushed that she would pursue him into the depths of the night to try returning it again. “I thought I made myself clear this afternoon. What part of it being _yours_ did you not understand, wench?”

She lay the sword on the table. “I’m not here to return it.” When she met his eyes again, there was so much in it. Fire and ice. Turbulence and Calm. Immense strength with traces of weakness.

A fearless warrior and a shy maiden…

All in one gaze, calling out to him, tugging at his heart.

 _I love you,_ Jaime ached to confess, but invisible strings bound his heart and restrained his tongue, and all he could hit her with, was an unkind, “What was so important that you had to risk your bloody life and ride back here? Reckless and stubborn,” he spat, the thought of his soldiers cutting her down and taking her head back to Cersei making him nauseous. “That’s what you’ve always been. That’s what--”

She sneezed, interrupting him, drawing his attention to the sorry state she was in, and rummaging through his trunk, he pulled out a dry towel and a bedsheet. “Here.” He tossed them to her. “I can’t get you any clothes at this hour, so you’ll have to make do with these. Wipe yourself dry and--”

“I’m fine,” she resisted, the same old steely glint returning to her eyes. “I--”

“--will fall ill unless you get out of those dripping clothes,” he scolded, as if cajoling Myrcella or Tommen. “Now stop being unreasonable for a change and listen to me.”

Brienne was rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on the bundle he’d handed her, mind contemplating whether to comply or not.

“Well?” he demanded, losing patience.

A deep breath later, he had his way. “Fine.”

“I can help with your armour--”

“I’ll do it myself, Ser Jaime.”

He returned to his bed to allow her the privacy to change, and for a while, the crackling of the fire and the occasional tinkling of the buckles or the clang of metal on wood, the only sounds in the room. What was she here for when she had made it plain that Sansa would always be her priority? Not one to put herself before duty, she would never surrender to her feelings. 

_Her feelings._

He sighed. He had known it for long and now he was certain; there was more to respect and an admiration in what she felt for him. He had seen it in King’s Landing; and he’d noticed it again today. Such warmth and affection, her gaze had filled him with, only to snatch away the wonderful sensation a moment later when she reminded him they would always be on opposite sides. Restraining himself that afternoon had been a daunting task, taking every bit of his resolve, draining every last drop of his inner strength. If it had not been for her determination to choose her oath over everything else, he would’ve pulled her into his arms and devoured those lips he’d been wanting to taste for ages.

But alas, his fate had already spoken. While he had the love of the woman he loved, he could never have her.

“You can look now,” she called out, her voice slightly sore. 

The white sheet draped over her, there were scarcely inches of bare skin he could make out. Parched for a glimpse, his eyes wandered, searching, pining for more of her than circumstances would let him have. Eager to learn the purpose of her visit, he patted the bed. “Come here. Sit down.”

Her cheeks blossoming into patches of pink he’d never seen before on her skin, she hesitated, her fingers twitching, her eyes going back and forth between the bed and the exit.

“Don’t worry, I’m not interested,” he lied, reminded of the first time he’d told her that and so much more. “Since you can’t venture out in this rain, you might as well make yourself comfortable and tell me how I can help you.”

After another few seconds of reluctance, she took the spot beside him, and clearing her throat, rattled away very quickly, “I came here to tell you that I don’t really want to fight you.” Her moist lips met, pressing together in a halt, her eyes on the bed, her hand, fiddling with the edges of her make-shift night clothes. “I can’t bring myself to cross blades with you, Ser Jaime,” she reiterated, more softly, clearer this time. “I’d rather die before I have to kill you--” She broke off again, sounding as if she had a bad head-cold. 

Jaime edged closer. “And I’d choose to die rather than let anything happen to you,” he sighed, nudging her chin up to look into her face. “Why are we like this, wench?”

Large blue eyes full of innocence gazed back into his. “Like what?”

“Obstinate.” He allowed himself the liberty of reaching out and caressing her face. “Stubborn. Oblivious, despite being painfully aware of what we really want, deep down. Unconditionally loyal to our duties even if it means the burial of our feelings for each other.”

She tilted her face to sink into his touch, her trembling lips shaping into one of her rare smiles. “But you just said you’re not interested--”

“I lied,” he admitted, not bothering to tone down the need, the longing in his voice. “The first time at Harrenhal, I subconsciously lied, but a while back, it was deliberate. Like I held back in King’s Landing that fateful morning and earlier today. I--”

“Don’t hold back now,” she said, her hand slipping over his to clutch it tightly, her penetrating gaze, her loaded tone telling him she’d been yearning for this as much as he did. “Not anymore. Don’t--”

Jaime took her mouth in a kiss he needed much more than he thought he did. The thunder rumbled on outside, but the storm here was beginning to drag him into it, engulfing him, pulling him deeper and deeper into his desire for her. It was everywhere, the want, the heat, the ache and passion, within him and her, around them. He could hear her heartbeat when she melted into his embrace and feel the blood pounding in her veins as hard as the rain on the roof above him when she met his vigour. He gave her all he had, consuming her, her unabashed reciprocity taking him by pleasant surprise, the unreserved fire and passion that met him, rousing him, goading him, tempting him to cross all lines and break down every wall that stood between them. His tongue plunged between her lips, tasting her, taking in every sigh, greeting every helpless sound that took birth in her throat. His hand dug into her rain-soaked hair, and grabbing a bunch of it, he crushed his mouth harder against hers as her strong fingers slid across the back of his neck to pull his mouth down against hers.

Her body seemed to merge with his and he could feel _her_ , the woman beneath the sheet, the maiden behind the armour of her warrior.

Blinded to everything else but his rapidly growing need for her, he lowered her to the mattress and pinned her down with his body, kissing her with more and more ferocity as the seconds trickled by. He wanted to rip away the piece of cloth that concealed her from him. He needed her body hard against his, needed the press of those soft breasts, those enticingly erect nipples against his chest as he wedged a thigh between hers. 

The need to touch, be touched, to take and give, greatly overwhelmed him. He wanted to be loved. He wanted to give her all the love he could. With his heart overflowing with it, what else could he do other than shower her with everything he had?

Pulling him closer, she moaned into his kiss, squirming and shivering beneath him, the sheet shifting away to uncover her when she wrapped her legs around him. Hunger surged inside him and he kissed her harder, fiercer than he’d ever kissed Cersei. A demand to have all of her emerged, taking control over all else he felt.

He wanted more. He wanted to give her more than she’d ever dreamed of.

Succumbing to the urgent craving of her skin against his, he pulled away her so-called clothing and cast it aside, his eager hand sliding all over the glorious body that met him. He let his fingers trail up her waist, her skin, rain-soaked, soft and silky to the touch. He sought out the curve of her waist, the arch of her ribs, letting every bit of her he touched, burn deep into him. He inched upwards, tracing a path along her front, and when he began teasing the tip of her perked-up nipple, a throaty cry escaped her and she pulled him closer, her mouth demanding his wildly, frantically. They nibbled and sucked at each other. It was a delicious torment, a sweet torture he’d been subconsciously longing for ever since he’d seen her naked at the bath. He sighed into her mouth as her skin sizzled and reddened at his touch, his cock madly twitching when she stroked her hands over him to spread them across the muscles of his chest.

After a few seconds apart to breathe, she sought his mouth in another deep kiss, pushing her hands against her shoulders, and he responded by moving down her neck, licking as he descended further and further on his delicious journey. When her breasts heaved from his warm breath moving over them, he slowed down to play with them, cupping them, twirling his tongue around her nipples, sucking them, one at a time, lavishing his attention on both in turns. When she pushed on his shoulder a little stronger, her nails digging into his skin, he could feel bolts of lightning striking him from within, ripping his body to shreds, leaving his cock hard and desperate to break free of its confinement and get to where it belonged. 

She was so fucking beautiful that he was hit by a surge of guilt, a pang of shame when he recalled how he’d criticised her. “You’re lovely,” he breathed between her breasts, licking his way up her neck to meet her lips. “Absolutely perfect. And I’ve been such an asshole to continuously look for faults with your body, with everything you did and what you are--”

“That was when you were the Kingslayer,” she cut in, her eyes, twinking, traces of a guarded smile lighting up her face again. “You’re different now.” She grazed his lips in a tender kiss. “So am I. And what’s between us--”

“--is love,” he whispered, smiling back at her. “When you accepted my sword, you took away my heart to make it yours forever. All that I have is yours, my lady. My sword, my body, my mind, my soul--” He took a moment to gather his thoughts, to infuse his mesmerised brain with as much coherence as he could. “Stay with me, Brienne,” he implored, “tonight--”

“Where else would I go in this downpour?” she teased, tugging at the laces on his shirt in an eagerness to get to him. 

He climbed away from her to give her room to undress him, and as she undid his clothes, eliminating, piece by piece, every obstacle that lay in the path of their union, he engaged himself in pleasant visions of a life like this. That very instant, he made up his mind. He would be hers in every possible way even if it meant he would end up a traitor to his king.

“ _Jaime,_ ” she said, pulling him back onto her, the sudden change in the way she addressed him, taking him by surprise. “When I accepted your gift, I gave you something in return.” She kissed the tip of his nose, her fingertip following the trail of hair that ran down his middle. “And it will always be yours.”

He moved down her body, somehow, guessing exactly what she wanted. Licking and kissing down the valley between her breasts, he took his time to enjoy the shape of them, teasing and pinching, pressing, then releasing them, watching them fall back into place. He continued his journey down over her stomach and around her navel, teasing it for a while, feeling her ribs tighten beneath him and her body jerk back up into his as he drew slow, lazy circles around it. “Gods,” she softly moaned, when he moved down further, his hand coming to a halt at the edge of her groin, just above the bushy tuft of hair between her legs. When he slid down lower, she opened her legs immediately for him, spreading them wide, tempting his hand, his cock, everything he could pleasure her with. He moved at an excruciating pace, pausing every now and then to look at her face, and when he saw her burning for him with flames of lust and desire and pleasure, he began to slowly run his hand down the sides of her long smooth legs, and up again, until he reached the top of her thighs. The tiny light hairs on the top of her thighs picked up his intrusion, standing straight up in arousal, waiting for him, for more, for the spasms of ecstasy he would soon rock her body with.

“You’re beautiful,” he gasped, slipping a finger into her wet slit, his erection now unbearably hard in anticipation. He went deeper, and she rewarded him with a low cry, her desperation, her sweet sweet agony, coming out loud and clear from every inch of her. He could feel her need for him, smell her arousal floating up into his face. So tight, she was, yet so inviting, opening up further to accommodate him when he slid in another finger. She throbbed around his fingers, her cunt devouring him like it was alive and hungry, like she’d been waiting for this night. Her expectation of what was in store for her had the desired effect on her, setting aflame her entire body, the shiver and the goose bumps erupting all over her smooth skin, drawing him into the same fire.

Gently, very slowly, he began stroking her, moving in and out, pushing up and down. “Jaime,” she cried again when he pressed his thumb to her clit, her lust-edged voice making every thrust worth it. Cersei had never enjoyed any of this closeness, the sensation of his hands on her skin, his passionate kisses. A few quick thrusts to a climax was her preferred way of fucking. But with Brienne, he felt a connection he’d never felt with anyone before; every touch, every kiss, every intimate moment, a step further to the togetherness he’d often dreamed of -- a life, a wife, a family.

“I’m going to come apart,” she grunted, imprisoning him in a death grip. “Jaime, I--” She bit her lip, and he could hear the breath hiss out of her mouth when he rubbed and tortured her clit. She went up and down, fucking his fingers, riding up the hill to a climax she’d never met before. Her fingers clutched at his hair, she arched up one last time his hand, and he reveled in her moans knowing he was pleasing her so much, shoving her through doors she’d never entered before. He doubled his pace, pulling lightly, then pushing hard until she squirmed and shook under him, her body coming to a shuddering halt when she was done.

When she fell back to the bed, pulling him onto her, he took a moment to relish the satisfied rapture on her face. “That was--” she gasped, her eyes, drunk, in a different world. “That was--”

“Just the beginning,” he panted, taking in the sheen of sweat on her body.

Brienne reached down to take his length in her hands. “Show me the end then.” Aligning the tip to her opening, she rubbed it up and down, teasing it with her wetness. “Make me yours, Jaime.”

Seeing her demand like this made him want to sink his aching cock into her in one long thrust and fuck her as hard as he could, but she was a virgin and that was not the way. She deserved gentle kisses and soft touches, the love she’d craved for, yet continually been deprived of, all her childhood and youth.

“Jaime,” she said again, then opened her legs as wide as she could, allowing him into the most private part of her womanhood, baring before him, all of her, withholding nothing, no inhibitions to hold back anything tonight. Pressing down her hips, he pushed, and felt her fingers guiding him into her. Shutting her eyes as she threw back her head on the pillow, she began to moan softly. He had to be gentle, to prepare her for his intrusion by lifting her hips and pulling them into his. Slowly, cautiously, he went further in, his extremely hard cock sinking into her until he met the barrier he’d been longing for long to breach. 

“This is it, Brienne.” He looked deep into her eyes, searching for second thoughts. “If I go any further, everything changes--”

“I _want_ everything to change.” There was the steely determination again. And for the first time, a thirst to acquire what she wanted.

With one deep plunge, he tore past the final wall between them. A little sigh and a twitch beneath her eye were the only signs of pain, and soon they were gone, a needy, “I want you deeper,” as she tilted her hips to aid the intrusion of his thick shaft, easing down his apprehensions. He began to withdraw from her wet tightness, and she grunted like an animal. Then again, he plunged deeper into her. Back and forth, up and down, they settled into a rhythm, adjusting their bodies, giving all they had to each other, their lust, and more than that, the love they bore for one another, driving them on and on. 

“Oh, Brienne,” he moaned in her ear, unable to take the pressure and the pleasure, when her hips moved under his, her muscles gripping his cock in a hold he didn’t want to free himself from. “I want to marry you, my lady,” he frantically confessed, the sound of their breathing, their feral cries, his balls slapping against her flesh, the only sounds he wanted to live with. “Be mine.” He pushed again, going all the way in, their bodies merged completely, her legs and arms wrapped around him, sheltering him deep inside her.

He pumped in and she pumped upwards as they began to build up to a furious pace, fucking harder, faster... 

The feeling was unbelievable; there were no words, nothing that could describe the sensations her body was hitting him with...

“I’m yours,” she whimpered, on the brink of another explosive end, her body jerking up into his as she began to climax hard with his cock buried deep inside her. Thundering into her, he brought her to the peak, then withdrawing, he pulled her back again before nudging her towards the edge yet again. “Always yours, Jaime.”

A hungry carnal noise, unladylike and indecent, emanating from her throat, she bucked and thrust and twitched wildly under him, surrendering herself to her body’s needs, surrendering to him. 

Her walls collapsing around him, convulsing uncontrollably, her body took over, screaming and desperate, and with one last thrust into depths none had been to before, he gave her what she demanded, satiating her hunger and quenching her thirst.

His cock thickened inside her, filling her, stretching her as far as she could take it, and he knew he was close. The way she held him, the sweet kisses she rained down on his mouth, her fingers, calloused, yet with a tender touch, roaming all over his chest, his back, his arms - this was everything he could ever dream of. Everything he had been deprived of whenever he’d been with Cersei. He moaned, and his back arching, he thrust one last time into her, his heart pounding so fast and hard it felt like it would spring out of his chest. 

“Yes,” she breathed, seizing his lips in a fit of desperation. “Yes, Jaime,” he felt her whisper into his mouth again, when he climbed farther and further, to greater heights of emotion and passion. When her arms tightened around him, he felt his balls squeeze, then relax, and with one final grunt, he filled her with his seed. 

They held each other for a long time, basking in the silence and the comfort of being wrapped around one another, neither of them saying anything for what felt like the most blissful few moments of his life. Finally, when his mind was back to its usual working state, he rolled over on his side, recalling with elation that she had consented to his proposal. “Did you just happen to agree to marry me, wench?” he asked, his fingers playfully prodding her nipples. 

Shifting closer, Brienne smiled. “I told you.” She brushed his lips with hers, her tender touch, spreading through him, a warmth no match for any fire, an intoxication far greater than the dizzying heights the best Dornish wine could thrust him to, an urge to uncover more of her. “I will always be yours.”


End file.
